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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23589697">a bit of violent delight</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/violaceum_vitellina_viridis/pseuds/violaceum_vitellina_viridis'>violaceum_vitellina_viridis</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>fire &amp; powder [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Feral Jaskier | Dandelion, First Aid, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, No Plot/Plotless, No Smut, Podfic &amp; Podficced Works, Ruthlessly Cherry-Picked Canon, Soft Jaskier | Dandelion, Witchersexual Jaskier | Dandelion, Wounded Eskel (The Witcher), no beta we die like stregobor fucking should have</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:20:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,988</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23589697</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/violaceum_vitellina_viridis/pseuds/violaceum_vitellina_viridis</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“I’m looking for the Witcher."</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <i>“Ah, you’re here to ferret him out for us, are ya, bard?” </i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>“I’m here to do no such thing. I’m here to see if he needs any assistance and tell you to fuck off.”</i></p><p> </p><p>Jaskier happens to be in the right place at the right time to help an injured Eskel.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>fire &amp; powder [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1698274</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>190</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2131</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Ashes' Library, Good Relationship Etiquette (familial included) - or Good BDSM Etiquette - or Good Relationship and BDSM Etiquette</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>a bit of violent delight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>okay this is........not <i>any</i> of the fics i should be finishing right now. like...at all. i have several possible sequels to my last two witcher fics in progress and <i>this</i> is what i finish? oy vey.</p><p>ANYWAY so i don't know what this is. i sat down with no real idea except that i wanted Jaskier to help Eskel and not take no for an answer, and i pounded out nearly 4k in three hours. frankly i'm going to blame all the jaskier/geralt/eskel fics i've been reading. (if you haven't read rawrkinjd's <i>Petrichor</i> please go do that immediately, my fic can wait)</p><p>shakespeare quotes for titles again. rated T just because jaskier is low-key feral in this lmao. timeline doesn't matter and neither does canon, though i used the video game for the potion bits. enjoy???</p><p>edit 1/18/2021: i'm going through and editing a bunch of character descriptions to make some things more obvious - specifically, POC vs. white characters.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jaskier was just settling into his dinner, lute finally abandoned to his side, when two men men came barging into the tavern with a racket. A look at the disinterested barkeep confirmed that they were either local or at least familiar. And when he looked back, they were coming straight for him.</p><p>He took a deep breath. He hadn’t even slept with anyone in this town yet, so they couldn’t possibly be here to defend someone’s honor. He had no other ideas as to why they’d want him.</p><p>“You,” one of them said, before Jaskier could even open his mouth. He had short-cropped black hair and luminous green eyes. “You’re that Witcher’s bard.”</p><p>Jaskier paused to consider. There were several reasons angry-looking men would ask after his relationship with Geralt, and none of them were terribly pleasant. “I am,” he finally decided. “Though, as you’ll see, he’s not with me now.” It would hardly change their minds if they were here to beat him for the slight of befriending someone that they considered less than human, but he could hope.</p><p>“No, he ain’t,” the other one said. He had blonde hair and brown eyes and a crooked jaw. “But there is a Witcher here.” He spat on the floor. Common superstition, Jaskier had seen it time and again travelling with Geralt – peasants and nobility alike would spit when they mentioned Witchers. Meant to ward off the evil they carried, if not the Witchers themselves. Jaskier had always found it distasteful, less for the spitting and more for the reasoning.</p><p>Jaskier looked around. “None that I can see,” he said.</p><p>Green Eyes shook his head. “Not here,” he said, and he clearly didn’t appreciate Jaskier’s dry tone, “at the inn. Came in bleedin’, holed himself up in the room. Won’t leave.”</p><p>Jaskier blinked at him, and when nothing more was forthcoming, shook his head. “Okay, and why exactly are you telling me this?”</p><p>“You talk to Witchers,” Crooked Jaw said. “We want him out.”</p><p>It took a lot of Jaskier’s willpower to hold his tongue at <em>that.</em> He didn’t know who this Witcher was – it was just as likely it would be one he didn’t know that it would be one he did – but he hardly gave a fuck about that. He didn’t like that these men were trying to kick him out of his likely over-priced room. He especially didn’t like that they were going to do it while he was possibly injured from killing a monster for them.</p><p>Jaskier looked down at his food and sighed. He wasn’t going to let these Neanderthals kick the Witcher out, he’d kick up a hell of a fuss before it came to that, but something needed to be done and it looked like he was the only one around to do it. “Alright,” he said, gathering his lute and bag and downing his ale. “Show the way.”</p><p>The inn was a short distance away. The two men tried to follow Jaskier inside, but he stopped them with his arm across the door. “I don’t need you two,” he said, sharply. “Go on, you’ve done what you were asked.”</p><p>Crooked Jaw looked as if he was going to protest – because of the insult in Jaskier’s tone or some deeply misplaced protective instinct, Jaskier didn’t know or care – but Green Eyes grabbed his elbow and yanked him back. Jaskier waited until they were down the road, out of earshot and nearly eyeshot, before he entered the inn.</p><p>“I’m looking for the Witcher,” Jaskier said to the innkeeper. “Which room?”</p><p>“Ah, you’re here to ferret him out for us, are ya, bard?” The innkeeper had a truly unfortunate face, and a voice to match. “Good. I’ll warn ya, though, he’s an ugly bastard. Scars all over his face.” Apparently, his attitude matched his face as well. Pity.</p><p> Jaskier scowled. “I’m here to do no such thing,” he said. “And I don’t give a damn about his scars. I’m here to see if he needs any assistance and tell you to fuck off.”</p><p>He slammed a handful of gold down onto the counter – entirely too much for a shithole like this. “Here’s your incentive.”</p><p>The innkeeper frowned. “Well, he left blood all over my floor,” he gestured to the drying puddle near the door, and the trail leading up the stairs. “What d’ya suppose I’m to do about that?”</p><p>“Clean it up,” Jaskier rolled his eyes. “You own a godsdamned inn, man, don’t think I feel sorry for you having to clean up other people’s messes.” All the same, he dropped a few extra coins onto the counter. “Now, which room?”</p><p>The innkeeper’s frown deepened, but he reached under the counter and produced a key. “Five,” he said.</p><p>Jaskier didn’t really think he'd need the key – he didn’t plan on going inside that room unless the Witcher inside allowed it – but he snatched it all the same and took the stairs two at a time. Room five was at the end of the hallway, before another set of stairs. Jaskier could see why this was  the room the Witcher had chosen; easily defensible, and there would be a window on one wall.</p><p>He knocked and waited. When there was no response after a moment of silence, he knocked again, a little louder, and said, “Witcher?”</p><p>“I’ll leave when I’m able.” It was more of a growl than anything, but it seemed almost familiar. Muffled through the wood, Jaskier couldn’t guarantee that he knew it, but he decided to take the gamble.</p><p>“Eskel?” The innkeeper <em>did</em> mention a scarred face. It wasn’t as if Eskel was the only Witcher with scars on his face, but his were rather distinctive, and Jaskier knew that people often thought them particularly hideous.</p><p>There was silence from the other side, but Jaskier forged on. “Eskel, if that’s you – it’s Jaskier. The bard. Do you need help?”</p><p>“Geralt’s bard?”</p><p>“Yes.” Jaskier rolled his eyes at being called Geralt’s bard for the second time today. It wasn’t as if it wasn’t <em>true</em>, but he was also a whole person in and of himself. He was famous across the Continent for his songs and his professorship at Oxenfurt, for fucks’ sake. “Do you need help?”</p><p>More silence, but before Jaskier could try again, there was a low groan. “Yes,” Eskel finally growled. “Door’s locked, though, and – ”</p><p>“I’ve got a key,” Jaskier interrupted, already halfway through unlocking the door. He stepped inside quickly, then turned to close and lock the door behind him. When he finally scanned the room, he found Eskel collapsed into a chair to the side of the bed, one hand clasped over his side and the other white-knuckled on the edge of the bed, which spoke to how tight he was gripping considering his summer-tanned skin.</p><p>“Shit,” Jaskier muttered, and dropped the key and his lute rather unceremoniously. He kept his bag, though, knowing he had a first aid kit somewhere in it.  He crossed the room in two large strides and dropped to his knees in front of Eskel. “What happened?”</p><p>“Arachnomorph,” the Witcher grunted. “Pincers the size of your fucking arm, got me in the side.”</p><p>“I fucking hate spiders,” Jaskier muttered. “Not venomous, I hope?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Are you still bleeding?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“Do you have any Kiss?”</p><p>Eskel looked fairly shocked at Jaskier’s knowledge of Witcher potions. “Yeah, but,” he jerked his head to the side, some strands of dark, straight hair falling out of its binding to stick in the sweat on his brow with the movement. The gesture leads Jaskier's eyes toward the far side of the room, where all of his things were.</p><p>“You couldn’t get to it,” Jaskier finished. “Right.” He took his bag off and left it at Eskel’s feet, then crossed the room to the neat pile of the Witcher’s things. “Which bag do you keep them in?”</p><p>“Brown satchel,” Eskel instructed. “It’s the – ”</p><p>“Round bottle, got a color like fucking candy, I know.” Jaskier grinned to himself as he dug through the indicated satchel. He found the bottle easily. It was the only one, though, which mean Eskel would need to make more after this. Luckily, Jaskier was pretty sure he’d seen some white myrtle and ergot around the edges of the forest just west of here. He uncorked it and brought it back to the Witcher, who grabbed it gratefully and downed the contents. He scowled, but otherwise didn’t show any outward signs of how awful it was. Jaskier knew, though.</p><p>“Alright, let’s get you out of that armor,” Jaskier said. “I’ve got some bandages.”</p><p>“I don’t need it,” Eskel said, guarded. Jaskier looked up from his bag to find the Witcher almost glaring at him, frown etched into his face. The scars made it more severe, the turn in his lip almost changing it into a snarl.</p><p>Jaskier was unaffected. “Well, thanks to Kiss and all those mutagens, you certainly won’t die without bandages,” Jaskier agreed, “but frankly, I see no reason you shouldn’t let me bandage it. It’ll hurt less and heal even faster.”</p><p>“I don’t need it.”</p><p>Jaskier huffed and went back to digging through his bag until he found the little leather case he was looking for. It had a disinfectant – something Geralt had taught him how to make – and clean bandages, as well as some needles and silk for stitches, and a pot of salve that was meant to help with pain.</p><p>He held it up for Eskel to see. “If you don’t want <em>me</em> to patch you up, that’s just fine. I can leave this with you, and you can do it yourself. But I’m seeing that wound bandaged and cared for whether you like it or not, Witcher.”</p><p>They faced off for a long moment, Eskel’s amber eyes filled with something that wasn’t quite anger. Jaskier just returned his gaze, comfortable and very used to the stubbornness of a Witcher. He always won out with Geralt, and there was no reason Eskel wouldn’t also see sense.</p><p>Jaskier was proven right when Eskel finally sighed and looked away. “Fine,” he muttered. “I’ll let you bandage it. But don’t think I’m as soft as Geralt.”</p><p>“I’m sure you are your own kind of soft, Eskel,” Jaskier teased, biting back a snort at the affronted look that got him. “I won’t hurt you, and this won’t make it into a song, I promise.” <em>At least not one I’ll sing to anyone but Geralt,</em> he amended in his head. Eskel didn’t need to know that bit, though.</p><p>“I – ” Eskel’s jaw snapped shut audibly, and he swallowed. “Alright.”</p><p>“Good,” Jaskier praised. “Now, that armor. Can you get it off yourself, or do you need help with that?”</p><p>Eskel stared at him for a few more long moments. Jaskier just looked patiently back.</p><p>“I’ll need help,” Eskel finally admitted, quietly.</p><p>“Then I’ll help,” Jaskier said, easily, and reached forward. He was slow and careful to telegraph all of his movements, but not timid. He’d helped Geralt out of and into his armor for years, and he patched the other Witcher up often. This was no different for him. But he knew Eskel would be skittish; Geralt was, too, at first.</p><p>It was slow-going, between Jaskier’s carefulness and Eskel’s wound, but they managed to get all of the Witcher’s armor up and off of him, and then all that was left was a ruined leather jerkin and a soft tunic, also ruined. The jerkin was definitely a lost cause, and Jaskier mourned it, too; it was a lovely piece. But he didn’t let himself get distracted, and instead just carefully pulled it off of the Witcher. The tunic, at least, could be salvaged. Jaskier would see about proper thread for it later, if Eskel was amenable. It came off a little easier, since the hole ripped into it meant Eskel only had to lift the opposite arm, and then the Witcher was completely topless.</p><p>Jaskier was not going to get distracted – he could be a professional – but there was certainly a lot to be distracted about. He ignored the improper pulse in his groin and stood to grab a cloth and the washbasin.</p><p>“A little Igni, please?” he asked, once he had the basin steady on the bed.</p><p>Eskel blinked at him, apparently shocked about his knowledge of the Signs, too, but obliged. The water flashed into a boil under the burst of magic flame, then simmered down into steaming. Jaskier was careful not to submerge his hands as he wet a rag. He’d made that mistake once before, and Geralt had ended up having to bandage him instead of the other way around.</p><p>“This’ll probably hurt,” he warned, holding the hot rag up and gesturing to the ragged wound marring Eskel’s ribs.</p><p>Eskel grit his teeth and nodded his permission, then tipped his head back and squeezed his eyes shut, too. Jaskier moved slowly but confidently as he washed the wound. Thanks to the Kiss, he didn’t have to worry about the wound starting to bleed again, but he was careful all the same. It took several dips into the hot water and a change of rags before he got the wound clean enough to see.</p><p>“It needs stitches, or it’ll heal jagged,” Jaskier diagnosed. “Are you alright with that?”</p><p>Eskel huffed. “It’s fine,” he said, after a tense moment. “Just – ”</p><p>Jaskier waited, but all he got was the sound of Eskel’s teeth grinding together. “Just what, Eskel?” he prodded. “I’m just trying to help.”</p><p>The Witcher blew out a breath, harsh and sounding almost like a sob. Jaskier didn’t mention it.</p><p>“Get on with it,” he hissed. “I won’t break.”</p><p><em>Ah, </em>Jaskier thought. He knew that phrase and that tone. Geralt used it too, less now than he had before, but still. <em>I won’t break</em>, Jaskier had come to understand, meant <em>I don’t know what to do with your kindness.</em></p><p>Instead of poking the bear – or, well, wolf, as the case may be – Jaskier did exactly as he was told. “The disinfectant will sting,” he said, grabbing the little bottle as he spoke. He also grabbed everything else, and threaded the needle, tying it off so it wouldn’t slip. “Once I’ve wiped it down, I’ll start stitching. Try to hold still.”</p><p>“Alright,” Eskel agreed, quietly. Jaskier was well versed in hearing unsaid things, though, and he could tell the Witcher was exhausted.</p><p>“I’ll start now,” Jaskier said, and then did so. The disinfectant made Eskel hiss, but he didn’t tense, and he didn’t move. Jaskier used one hand to hold the edges of the wound steady and then started stitching, moving as fast as he could without causing further injury or making the stitches uneven. When he finished, he was quick to apply the painkilling salve and then start with the bandages. All in all, it only took fifteen minutes from the first stitch to tying off the bandage. Pretty good work, if Jaskier said so himself.</p><p>Eskel moved to stand and Jaskier let him, holding a hand out just in case the Witcher needed assistance. “Careful with that arm for a bit,” Jaskier instructed. “No reason to break the stitches and cause more damage.”</p><p>“I know how stitches work,” Eskel growled. “Help me back into my armor.”</p><p>Jaskier blinked. “What, why?”</p><p>“Because I’m leaving.” Eskel said it like he was speaking to a particularly dumb child. “I know that’s why they sent you.”</p><p>Jaskier snorted. “That’s why they interrupted my dinner,  yes, but you’re not going anywhere, Eskel.”</p><p>“The innkeeper – ”</p><p>“Has been bribed heavily with my own gold. You’re exhausted, Eskel, and anyone would be able to see it.” No, they wouldn’t, but Jaskier wasn’t above little white lies, not when they got him results. “The only place you’re going tonight is to sleep.”</p><p>“But – ”</p><p>“But nothing,” Jaskier insisted. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll go get you something to eat and drink, and then I’ll get a room of my own. You can be on your way in the morning, after you get your payment.”</p><p>Eskel snorted. “They won’t pay me,” he said.</p><p>Jaskier quirked a brow and smiled. “Won’t they?” he asked, a tinge of sweetness in his voice. Eskel’s eyes widened and he took an automatic step back. Jaskier bit back a laugh and schooled his expression back into something less threatening. It wasn’t as if he had any need to threaten Eskel, after all. That was just to prove a point. “I’ll make sure you’re paid.”</p><p>Eskel opened his mouth, as if he was going to argue, but shut it again when Jaskier gave him a pointed look.</p><p>“I’ll go get that food,” Jaskier announced, brightly. “Wait here.”</p><p>He grabbed his bag and the key he’d dropped earlier and headed toward the door. Just as he was closing it to lock it again, he swore he heard Eskel mutter, “And I just thought Geralt was going soft in his old age.”</p><p>Jaskier chuckled and locked the door.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>It was a bit of a hassle to get the innkeeper to spill who had contracted Eskel, but another few coins and liberal waving of the dagger Jaskier kept in a hidden pocket loosened the man’s lips. Once he had a name, he returned to the tavern from earlier and purchased two meals and a pitcher of ale, giving the barkeep triple the cost of the food so he’d be allowed to take the plates and pitcher as well as some cutlery with him. While the food was made, he did some asking around and found the farmer he was looking for at another tavern toward the edge of town.</p><p>“You contracted a Witcher to kill a monstrous spider,” Jaskier said, as soon as he got the man outside. No need to make this into a public affair. “And you’ll pay him tomorrow.”</p><p>The farmer, a wizened man by the name of Aegis, laughed. “Why should I,” he said, voice mean. “He never brought me any proof its dead.”</p><p>“The wound in his side that I just patched up is proof enough,” Jaskier said, tone much less friendly than before. He slipped his dagger back out of its pocket and flipped it in his hand, intentionally casual. “I’d say you should double the pay for the injury, but I’m sure we can come to an agreement, right, Aegis?”</p><p>He gave the man that same smile he’d shown Eskel and the farmer took his own step back, right into the tavern wall. His eyes flicked to the blade Jaskier was still twirling in the air as if it was a simple toy, and he swallowed.</p><p>“You’re just a bard,” he muttered, not sounding much more confident than he looked. Jaskier laughed, and when he caught the dagger on its downward spin, he flipped it around and rested it easily against Ageis’ throat.</p><p>“Indeed I am,” he agreed. “But you’d do well to remember that I’m a <em>Witcher’s</em> bard. So, you’ll be paying the Witcher for that arachnomorph, and as soon as I have your word, I’ll be on my way.” Jaskier hated the superstition and hatred that followed Witchers like a particularly bad smell, and he did his best to paint them in a good light, but he wasn’t above using the prejudice to his advantage. Besides, he could tell that Aegis would be too entrenched in his own bigotry to see sense, so there was no point in being nice.</p><p>“Alright,” Ageis finally spat, panicked, when Jaskier dug the tip of the dagger into his throat. Not quite deep enough to bleed, but plenty to hurt, and the threat was definitely there. “Alright! I’ll pay him, I will, I promise.”</p><p>“Good.” Jaskier pulled the dagger back and leaned out of Aegis’ space, flipping the dagger again and sliding it easily into its pocket. “I’m glad we could work this out, Aegis. But just to make sure we’re on the same page, I’ll see you tomorrow when the Witcher comes to collect.”</p><p>Aegis looked like he might protest, but his eyes flicked back to where Jaskier had put the dagger. “That’s fine,” he said, instead, and edged a little to the side.</p><p>“Have a good night!” Jaskier said, cheerily, and stepped back. Aegis practically ran back into the tavern, and Jaskier made sure his laugh was loud enough to be heard before the door slammed shut.</p><p>Really, that conversation had been laughably quick. People in places like this were so easily persuaded, Jaskier thought – no spine to them. Oh well, it worked out in his favor, so he’d leave it be.</p><p>Returning to the inn took a bit more time, balancing the food and the pitcher, but he managed. To his delight, the innkeeper wouldn’t even look him in the eye. He couldn’t be sure if it was just his previous threats, or if rumors of his conversation with Aegis had spread that quickly. He was content with either option.</p><p>“Eskel, I’m back.” he said, loudly, once he was outside the door. “Open the door.”</p><p>It took a second, but he heard a grunt and then the lock clicked open and the door swung in. Jaskier strode in and carefully placed the plates and the pitcher down on the small, rickety table provided next to the bed. When he turned back, Eskel had already closed the door again and was staring at him as if he’d grown another head.</p><p>“Well, I’ll go get my room,” Jaskier said, after a moment of waiting for Eskel to speak. “I think the one next door is empty. Wake me before you leave, and we’ll go to the farmer together.”</p><p>He stepped toward the door again, but Eskel’s hand on his elbow stopped his progress.</p><p>They stood there for a few minutes. Jaskier didn’t break the silence or pull away. He could tell Eskel was working himself up into speaking, that he needed that time, so he let the Witcher have it.</p><p>“Stay,” Eskel finally murmured. “You said they interrupted your dinner. I don’t need this much food.”</p><p>That was a lie if Jaskier had ever heard one – he knew how much food a Witcher could put away, especially an injured Witcher. But he didn’t call Eskel out on in. Instead, he just turned to face him and grinned.</p><p>“Alright,” he agreed, easily. Eskel’s eyes widened, but he didn’t say anything more, instead just letting go of Jaskier’s elbow and moving stiffly over to the bed. He sat carefully and grabbed one of the plates, then watched silently as Jaskier grabbed the other and sat in the chair he’d found Eskel in.</p><p>Jaskier chattered aimlessly as they ate, as was his usual wont. Eskel didn’t respond to any of it, but that was hardly new for Jaskier. However, when they’d both finished their dinner and the pitcher of ale was empty between them, Eskel did speak.</p><p>“Thank you, Jaskier.”</p><p>Jaskier smiled, heart swelling. Eskel wasn’t looking at him; instead, he was staring at his hands where they sat in his lap, fidgeting.</p><p>“You’re always welcome, Eskel,” Jaskier replied, warmly. He stood and stretched, then grabbed all of his things. “Wake me in the morning.”</p><p>Eskel did look up at that. He frowned for just a moment but nodded. “I will.”</p><p>“Good.” Jaskier reached over to put a cautious hand on the Witcher’s shoulder. Eskel turned to look at it as if it was some kind of new creature that had crawled onto him. “Sleep well.”</p><p>Eskel sounded a little choked when he said, “You too,” and Jaskier kept his smug smile to himself until well after he’d locked himself into his own room.</p><p><em>Silly Witchers,</em> he thought as he readied himself for bed. <em>Always so sure I’m no different than the rest of the riffraff they deal with.</em> Well, Geralt had learned his lesson; Jaskier was sure Eskel would, too.</p><p>He drifted off to sleep with that same smile on his face.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>okay no really i have no idea what this is or why it happened. if you liked it please let me know.</p><p>i'm still having a hell of a time and would absolutely appreciate the dopamine from comments. pls. i beg you.</p></blockquote><div class="children module" id="children">
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        A [Restricted Work] by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/hsu/pseuds/hsu">hsu</a>
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